


Quiet Night In

by youcouldmakealife



Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [123]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:50:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26620147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youcouldmakealife/pseuds/youcouldmakealife
Summary: “Yeah,” Jared says. “Gabe told me to go home to my husband, so.”Bryce goes still.“He sort of figured out we’re married,” Jared says. “Something about the matching wedding rings and you being from Richmond and the fact we wouldn’t stop staring at each other the whole time.”“I tried to tell you,” Chaz complains.
Relationships: OMC/OMC
Series: Impaired Judgment (and other excuses) [123]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/849798
Comments: 29
Kudos: 343





	Quiet Night In

Jared is vaguely out of breath when he reaches his apartment, which might say something bad about his cardiovascular fitness. Or, more realistically, it says something embarrassing about the speed he made it home, considering he’s fit enough to handle second line minutes in a damn hockey game. He takes a moment in front of the door, partly trying to find his key — he’s got way too many on his keychain now — but also so he doesn’t barge in looking like a complete idiot, not that he thinks Bryce would mind, or like, even notice. 

Bryce is sitting on the couch in front of the TV, which would be Jared’s cue to kick off his shoes and crawl into his lap, maybe bury his face in his neck for a minute like he’s wanted to do since he saw him, except there’s an interloper sitting beside him, which is completely unacceptable. It also means it was a good call to not run in panting, because he thinks Chaz would notice, and would probably mock him for it as much as he deserves.

“You’re home early,” Bryce says, and glances at Chaz, in a way Jared can totally see is a ‘Jared’s home, get the hell out of our apartment so we can hug and then fuck’ look, though Chaz appears not to notice.

“Yeah,” Jared says. “Gabe told me to go home to my husband, so.”

Bryce goes still.

“He sort of figured out we’re married,” Jared says. “Something about the matching wedding rings and you being from Richmond and the fact we wouldn’t stop staring at each other the whole time.”

“I tried to tell you,” Chaz complains.

“Wait, is that why you kept elbowing me?” Bryce asks after a moment he seems to spend processing.

“Jesus Christ you’re both idiots,” Chaz mutters, which is rich considering he isn’t currently getting the hell out of their apartment so they can hug and then fuck.

“He’s — okay?” Bryce asks. “He isn’t going to—”

“He said he won’t tell anyone,” Jared says. He’ll save the addition of ‘and complimented me on my impeccable taste in men’ for when Chaz is gone. Which should be soon.

“Okay,” Bryce says, and glances over at Chaz again.

“Okay, I’m leaving, I know when I’m not wanted,” Chaz says. “Rude, by the way.”

“Like you wouldn’t kick us out if it’d been months since you’d seen Ashley,” Jared says.

“I wouldn’t be dumb enough to invite you over if it’d been months since I saw Ash,” Chaz says. “But fair enough. Bye loser. Bye Chaz’s teammate Bryce.” 

Bryce laughs way too loud and for way too long, which means Chaz did not waste time before telling him about that. 

“Out of my house,” Jared says. “Now.”

“I’m literally putting my shoes on right now,” Chaz says. “What more do you want from me?”

“Put them on in the hall,” Jared says.

“Welcome home, asshole,” Chaz says, and departs a little over-dramatically. 

“So Gabe—” Bryce says.

“Can we talk about this after we’ve like —”

“Yes,” Bryce says immediately.

“Okay thank fuck,” Jared says. He makes sure to lock the door before he’s crawling into Bryce’s lap, but that’s about as long as he’s willing to wait right now. 

“Hi,” Bryce says, grinning up at him, that big wide one that’s exactly as attractive as he thinks it is. “Bed, or—” 

Bed’s probably a good idea. 

“Next time,” Jared says, and they do end up there eventually, after a bit of a mess and a pit-stop in the bathroom to take turns in the shower for a quick rinse off — Jared knows better than to get into that shower with Bryce by now, no matter how sulky Bryce’s face is as he pouts at him through the glass — land in it damp and and flushed and very happy. Well, Bryce hasn’t literally said ‘I’m very happy’, but judging by the fact he’s grinning that grin again, Jared thinks it’s probably fair to say he’s speaking for the both of them on the ‘very happy’ front.

“I missed this bed,” Jared says.

“You have the same one at my mom’s,” Bryce says.

“It’s not the same,” Jared says.

“Because I’m not in it?” Bryce says.

Well, also because this one just seems to _know_ Jared’s body, but — 

“Yeah,” Jared says. “Pretty much.”

His eyes drift shut, lulled by the post-endorphin rush, the shower, Bryce’s body a hot line against him, is honestly halfway to what would probably be the most satisfying night’s sleep in months before Bryce digs his chin into Jared’s shoulder.

“Hm,” Jared says.

“Gabe,” Bryce says.

“Oh,” Jared says, suddenly wide awake thanks to the rush of absolute mortification that runs through his body. Bryce was a great distraction from it, but he suspects that conversation is going to occasionally leap at him right when he’s falling asleep for like, the rest of his life. “So uh. Apparently we weren’t very subtle?”

“I thought we were,” Bryce says.

“Me too,” Jared says. “But Gabe — kind of didn’t? Like, apparently we kept, um. Looking at each other? Like. He didn’t say it but he kind of implied there was some eye-fucking going on.”

“I was trying not to look at you,” Bryce mumbles. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jared says. “Apparently we sucked at it.”

“But he was okay with it being me?” Bryce says. “Like what’d he say?”

“Like, he told me he’d figured it out, then said I should go home and hang with you, and when I mentioned that maybe it was kind of — not something to talk about, he interrupted me and told me he wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Okay,” Bryce says. “So. Okay, good.”

“Also he complimented me in my taste in men,” Jared says.

“Uh huh,” Bryce says, not sounding like he believes him.

“Literally the word was ‘ _nice_ ’,” Jared says.

Bryce’s slight flush is much more flattering than whatever Jared’s face must’ve done when Gabe said it.

“No he didn’t,” Bryce says.

“He totally did,” Jared says.

Bryce buries his face in a pillow, presumably to hide said very flattering flush.

“Dude,” Jared says. “like you aren’t fully aware you’re hot as fuck.”

“Shuttup,” Bryce mumbles into the pillow.

Jared kisses his tattooed shoulder, his blushing neck, his hot red ear.

Bryce mumbles something.

“Hm?” Jared says, liking the shiver he gets with the light bite to the shell of his ear.

“ _You’re_ the ‘nice’ one,” Bryce says.

“I mean,” Jared says. “I can be nice if you want.”

Bryce quits hiding to kiss him, so Jared thinks that’s a yes to Jared being nice to him. And Jared is very, very nice to him, despite what Bryce says when he’s bitching about Jared taking his time — he missed Bryce’s body, he thinks it is fully understandable that he needs a little time to enjoy reacquainting himself with it. And even though Bryce keeps complaining, the way he reacts to Jared’s fingers and mouth, arching into his touch like he can’t help himself, that has Jared pretty convinced that Bryce doesn’t really mind Jared reacquainting himself either.

It’s probably really cheesy to think that he feels like, at home when he’s slowly pushing into the hot clutch of Bryce’s body. Like, ridiculously sappy, the kind of think he’d never admit to anyone, even Bryce, who’s digging his fingers into the back of Jared’s bicep like he wants to leave a mark, his other hand tangled in Jared’s, which is going to make things a little more difficult from a leverage standpoint, but Jared doesn’t give a shit, just buries his face in the thick column where Bryce’s neck meets his shoulder, doesn’t leave a mark of his own, though he wants to, it’s too high up, to hard to hide, and he hates that he has to think about that, that he has to think about anything, that—

“I swear to god if you don’t fucking _fuck_ me,” Bryce says bitchily, and Jared huffs a laugh against his skin, presses a kiss there in apology, and does his best to shut Bryce up the best way he knows how, which works for a bit, then emphatically doesn’t, not that Jared minds Bryce making noise in that context.

Bryce sprawls out like a starfish after he gets off, refusing to move and leaving Jared to clean them both up, but Jared can’t mind that too much either, because he looks wrung out and content, which makes Jared feel very accomplished. He does move when Jared crawls into bed, pulls the covers up, but just to curl into Jared, slightly damp hair cold and ticklish on Jared’s shoulder.

“I think we got better at that,” Bryce yawns.

“Really?” Jared says. “Because you were insulting me half the time.”

“When you finally _listened to me_ —” Bryce says, and makes a huffy noise against Jared’s mouth when he kisses him quiet.

*

Jared wakes up feeling incredibly content despite the fact that Bryce apparently murdered his arm in the night. He tentatively wiggles his fingers until he's confirmed they still exist, and does the slow work of trying to free his arm without waking Bryce up. He looks comfortable, and the Flames have the practice rink after the Canucks do, so he’s got some time to sleep in. Jared starts the coffee — he missed this coffee maker, maybe he should get it for Elaine for Mother’s Day. Is that selfish? Elaine drinks coffee too, so it’s probably not _that_ selfish, just moderately selfish. Elaine deserves a nice coffee maker. Jared also deserves one, but he probably wouldn’t pull the trigger on that purchase for just himself, because it’s way more expensive than a coffee maker reasonably should be. But also — this coffee is the best coffee. He missed this coffee.

He missed their shower almost as much as he missed their coffee maker, gets to really enjoy it now that he has the time to, isn’t just quickly rinsing off between rounds, just lets it pound his muscles for awhile, so he’s just grabbed the shampoo when Bryce is coming into the bathroom — Jared’s pretty sure his alarm wasn’t supposed to go yet, but maybe the coffee woke him — rinsing it out when Bryce is flushing the toilet, washing his hands, reaching for the conditioner when the shower door starts sliding open.

“No,” Jared says.

“But,” Bryce says.

“Wait your turn,” Jared says, doing his best to ignore Bryce looking sadly at him through the glass.

“But I missed you,” Bryce says plaintively.

“Not going to convince me to have shower sex,” Jared says. “I’ve had too many injuries from sex in this shower.”

It’s a great shower for showering. Not so much for sex.

“Sometimes I’m the one injured,” Bryce says, like he thinks that is remotely good as retorts go.

“We both need to be at our best,” Jared says. “So I know we deserved the win when the Canucks kick your sorry asses tonight.”

“Wow,” Bryce says. “Rude.”

For some reason he sounds pleased about that, and the door keeps sliding open. He’s going to get water all over the bathroom floor.

“If you make us breakfast I think we can squeeze in a quickie before I have to head out,” Jared says.

Bryce is quiet for a moment. “Does toast count?” he asks.

It usually wouldn’t, but honestly this is just Jared bargaining to avoid shower sex, because one more sad look and he’s going to give in, awareness of their shower sex history or not. If Bryce had asked ‘does me not looking at you plaintively through the glass count?’ it’d be a yes. 

“Toast counts,” Jared tells him. Bryce disappears from the bathroom with great speed, and Jared figures he can skip the conditioner today.

*

Jared has to stop for crappy fast food breakfast on the way back to the hotel, his delicious coffee in a travel mug, because the toast never happened. Well, it happened, but sex took precedence, and then the sex was not the quickie it was supposed to be because did Jared mention he missed Bryce’s body? So this is probably his fault. Shower sex would have been quicker, if only because it was a race against another injury.

Gabe gives him a look when Jared meets up with the team in the lobby. Jared isn’t late — he’s early, in fact, by a couple minutes, so he’s one of the few people there — but like, he straight up told Jared to go home to his husband and then Jared did and was probably noticeably not at breakfast, at least to Gabe, so.

Jared thinks if Gabe says “Nice,” right now he will burst into flames — fitting — and then die, and he’s so grateful that Gabe says nothing except “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Jared says, still a little wary, waiting for a wink or an elbow or something, but Gabe just goes back to his phone, because Jared has the best luck when it comes to linemates.

“Family coming to the game tonight?” Gabe asks, and Jared figures he means like, non-Bryce family, because Bryce being there is obviously a given.

“Yeah,” Jared says. 

“Don’t let that get in your head,” Gabe says, elbowing him now, so actually this very well might be about Bryce, just veiled enough that no one overhearing would think otherwise. Gabe’s way better at this veiled thing than Jared is. Jared feels like he should be taking notes or something.

“Never have,” Jared says.

“Good,” Gabe says. “We’ll kick their asses.”

“Their sorry, sorry asses,” Jared agrees.


End file.
